


Covert (mis)Communications

by AnnaTheHank



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Spy, Comedy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Followed by Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Professor Aziraphale, Spies, Spy Crowley, Threesome - M/M/M, dramatic moments of angst, probably inaccurate historical facts, spy gabriel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTheHank/pseuds/AnnaTheHank
Summary: Crowley is a spy for MI6. His rival, Gabriel, works for British Army Intelligence. They never see eye to eye, yet they somehow work well together. Which is why they're assigned a new case to protect a valuable asset.What they expect: Fight off a group of baddies hunting after an old relic and intercept the information discovered by their asset.What they don't expect: Falling in love with the fumbly professor of ancient literature, Aziraphale...and each other.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens), Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 59
Collections: Good AUmens AU Fest





	1. The invention of lying

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Thank you all for stopping by to read!!  
> yes, yes, I _know_. Yet another WIP!  
> but this one is basically all plotted out and part of the Good Omens AU event thingy! So I promise it'll be a thing.  
> Or I promise I'll try to let it be a thing.   
> One way or another  
>  _spies_. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it! I'm going to _try_ to make a 'posting schedule' thing for this in the future but it all depends on what my work schedule will (or apparently won't) be!
> 
> Thank you all again! I hope you enjoy it!!!! <3

Word on the street was that some guy Crowley couldn't remember the name of was going to be assassinated by some other guy that he also couldn’t remember the name of. Names held little recognition to Crowley. After all, 80% of people lied about them in his line of business. All he needed to know was the time and the place. So he, unfortunately, met up with Gabriel at the corner of Barley and Rye.

“He leaves his flat every day at 8:45,” Gabriel said. “Catches a bus into town. He’s been scoping out the cafe from the building site across the street.” He pointed to the row of windows, only half of which were fitted with glass. “He takes lunch between 12:30 and 13:00, usually buying a sandwich and chips from the convenience store two blocks down. He watches the area until 19:30, then returns home.”

“Gee,” Crowley said with fake interest. “Do ya monitor his bowel movements too?”

“7:00,” Gabriel said, without missing a beat. “Unless he’s had something spicy, in which case he’ll take an irregular break.”

“Good lord,” Crowley muttered.

Gabriel squinted over at him. “What was that?”

“I said good work!” Crowley patted Gabriel on the back. “You know, if this whole spy thing ends up not working for you, you’d make one hell of a professional stalker.”

The two of them stepped into the street, making their way to the construction site. “I don’t think professional stalker is a real job.”

“Sure it is,” Crowley said. “They’re called private investigators.”

He didn’t miss the roll in Gabriel’s eyes as they made their way inside. He grinned. He loved it when he made Gabriel roll his eyes. Crowley let Gabriel lead the way, not because the military brat was in charge or anything, but because he knew which room the culprit was staying in. Plus, watching anyone go up some stairs was always a treat, even Gabriel. 

“He should be out any minute now,” Gabriel whispered. He led Crowley to the right door and placed his back against the wall next to it, brandishing his gun. 

“There’s no need for such violence,” Crowley tutted in a hushed voice. He stood right before the door with his hands on his hips. Gabriel rolled his eyes again.

A few moments passed.

“Sure you got the right door?” Crowley asked.

“Positive,” Gabriel said. He checked his watch with a frown and shook his head. “He should be here by now.”

Crowley shrugged. Well, if this guy wasn’t coming out, they’d be going in. With a half-hearted warning from Gabriel that was much too late, Crowley kicked his foot against the door, snapping the lock open and sending it flying in. Gabriel was quick to get in before him, gun primed and ready. But despite the cluster of papers and equipment in the room (that certainly proved the assassination theory true) there was no one else there.

“Maybe he went home early,” Crowley suggested. “Took a half day.”

“I’ve been watching,” Gabriel said. “He never left.”

“Back door?” Crowley suggested.

Gabriel shook his head, looking intently at the table near the window. It had a telescope set up on it, aimed at the cafe. But the real item of interest was the pack of crisps sitting next to it. Gabriel picked it up and showed Crowley the flavoring. Then he nodded to a closed door on the other side of the room.

Crowley decided that catching a criminal with their pants down would be _hysterical_ so he raced over, pulling the door open despite the sigh and grumble from his cohort. It was just another empty room, although it certainly looked recently used. 

Crowley frowned and stepped back over to Gabriel. “Well. Either he’s disappeared or you’re bad at your job.”

There was a thud behind him. Crowley felt Gabriel grab the back of his shirt, yanking him to the side. He prepared to yell at him for wrinkling his clothes when a sharp piece of metal lodged itself in the wall, right where his head had been. 

“Really?” Crowley said, pulling the object out. “Throwing stars? What are you, a freaking ninja?”

The lack of person in the room or by the door proved that theory to be at least sort of accurate.

“You’re welcome,” Gabriel said, “By the way.”

Crowley snarled at him. “Whatever. Gloat later, we’ve got a killer to catch.” He pulled out his gun and crept towards the door, listening for which direction the guy had ran off.

“Hasn’t killed yet,” Gabriel whispered.

Crowley rolled his eyes. He peeked out. No sign of the guy in the hallway. He must have escaped to another room. Crowley waved Gabriel left and then veered off to the right. None of the other doors were locked, and each room was devoid of both furniture and people. There was a pigeon hanging out in one that didn’t have any windows yet. Crowley would not want to be the guy buying that flat. 

He heard a shot and a yell from down the hall and cursed himself for taking the wrong side. Now Gabriel would get all the glory of the take down. Well, not if he could help it. He ran out to the hall, catching a glimpse of Gabriel as he chased after the footsteps on the stairs. 

Now, Crowley was fast, but he wasn’t about to go try and outrun a military man. So instead he wormed his way out of the window in one of the rooms. Gabriel wasn’t the only one who could do a little recon work, and Crowley knew that even with the fence at the end of the alley, this route was the quickest escape away from crowds.

His theory proved right as he climbed his way down the fire escape, spying their to-be assassin racing towards him, away from Gabriel. Crowley jumped down, gun back in his holster, ready to block the path. 

But damn Gabriel was too fast for his own good. He caught up to the guy and tackled him with all the expertise and grace one could get from the military. They tumbled to the floor, the criminal groaning in pain. As Gabriel rolled to the side and stood up, Crowley rushed forward, handcuffing the criminal.

“Got him!” Crowley proclaimed. He stood triumphantly with his hands on his hips, smiling at the looser.

“You did not,” Gabriel argued. He crossed his arms and frowned. “I was the one who took him down.”

“You know the rules,” Crowley said with a smirk. “Whoever handcuffs gets the prize.”

“Hm, yes.” Gabriel glanced down and then bent over, picking up said handcuffs. With a notable lack of criminal attached. “These handcuffs?”

Crowley scowled at the blank air between them. He looked down the alley to where their culprit was in the middle of climbing the chain link fence at the end. 

“Seriously?” Crowley asked. He growled, snatched the handcuffs from Gabriel, and ran after the delinquent. In the end, he still managed to get the win.

-

Word on the street was that some group of ancient chaos was on the hunt for the Hand of Destiny. Crowley didn’t really know much about that, but some stuffy university professor from Oxford apparently did. Some guy named Aziraphale or what not. Crowley usually enjoyed undercover work, made it a lot more fun, flexed his improv muscles and all that. But he wasn’t particularly looking forward to spending the next few days (or, God help him, weeks) being undercover with Gabriel.

Of all the people they could have paired him up with…

“We really should wait,” Gabriel said. He stood rigid, with his hands behind his back, watching Crowley work. “We don’t know his schedule yet. We could run into a problem.”

“It’s fine,” Crowley said. He stuck his tongue out a bit for concentration, feeling the turn and tumble of the lock as he picked it. “You worry too much.”

“Uhm, hello,” a soft-spoken voice said. Crowley jumped up and Gabriel froze. They spun around, finding the face of their asset staring right at them. Aziraphale was holding a paper bag full of groceries in one arm and playing with a set of keys in his free hand. He gulped. “I-I’ll have you know that I have a dog. Two dogs! Big ones, too.”

“Oh no, no!” Crowley said, waving his hands, palm out, at him. “It’s nothing like that. We’re your new neighbors.” He smiled and gestured to the door down the hall. 

“That’s comforting,” Aziraphale whispered.

“Just wanted to introduce ourselves.”

“By breaking into my flat?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley could see the beat of his heart increase, pulsing against this neck. His fingers tightened against his keys. 

“You might as well just tell him the truth,” Gabriel said, rolling his eyes a bit.

“The truth?” Crowley asked. He looked at Gabriel out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t be suggesting they actually tell him the truth. He wasn't that much of an idiot. Usually.

Gabriel shook his head and sighed softly. “This idiot over here dropped a box while we were moving and the wind scattered his many, many scarves all over the street.”

“ _My_ many scarves?” Crowley mumbled. If anyone had too many scarves it was Gabriel. Crowley’s never seen the guy wear the same one twice. Not that he’s been paying that close attention to Gabriel's wardrobe choices, of course.

“And one of them went in your window,” Gabriel finished. “It’s his favorite one. Rather attached.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s body relaxed a little. “I hadn’t realized I left the window open…” 

He glanced between the two of them and shuffled past, opening his door. Sure enough, the window across was half-open, a gentle breeze blowing the curtains around. 

“Oh dear. I’m so sorry!” He opened the door wider and stepped in, placing his bag on the counter of the kitchenette. “I didn’t mean to imply you were unsavory. Please do come in. I'll help you look for it.”

“Ah,” Gabriel said. He strolled over to the couch, leaning down and fishing out the one scarf that Crowley did own from his pocket. Crowley furrowed his eyebrows, wondering at what point Gabriel had taken it and for what reason. “Found it. Here you are.” He handed it to Crowley, who scowled while taking it. 

“I suppose introductions are in order, since we’re to be neighbors now.” Aziraphale wiped his hands together and held one out to them. “I’m Aziraphale.”

“Gabriel,” Gabriel said, taking his hand and shaking it.

“Crowley,” Crowley greeted, taking the hand after him. 

Aziraphale’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Crowley? That’s a bit of an odd name, isn’t it?”

Crowley gave him a look. “Says the man named Aziraphale.”

“It’s his last name,” Gabriel said, diffusing the situation. “He’s like that.”

“Ah, I see,” Aziraphale said. He smiled, and it was warm. Like the sun. And Crowley couldn't stop staring at it. Aziraphale turned to his bag, taking out some food and putting it away. “So how long have you two been together?”

“What?” Gabriel asked. 

“I…” Aziraphale blushed and bit his lip. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed you were...well.” He gestured between the two of them, raising his eyebrows a bit.

Gabriel scoffed and went to argue against it, but Crowley saw the perfect opportunity to get back at him for the whole scarf thing. He slid an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders. “Ah yes, that. Who can really keep track of time when you’re with the one you love.”

Gabriel turned his head slowly, murder in his eyes. Crowley just smiled at him. 

Aziraphale made a happy little noise. “That’s wonderful,” he said. “It must be so nice to be in love. You seem like a lovely couple.”

“Oh the loveliest,” Gabriel said through clenched teeth. 

“I’m sorry we got off on such a weird foot,” Aziraphale said. He bit his lip a bit, looking around the room briefly. Uncomfortable, but eager. “Perhaps I could make you dinner to make up for it?”

“Ah, well, we were trying to break into your place,” Crowley said with a laugh. “If anyone should make an apology meal it should be us.”

Aziraphale’s face fell a little, and Crowley wondered if he had said something offensive.

“A potluck, then,” Gabriel suggested. Aziraphale’s eyes lit up and Crowley cursed the suave bastard. “We’ll each make something.”

“That sounds rather fun!” Aziraphale said. “But I must insist on hosting! I wouldn’t want to rush your unpacking or anything.”

“Sounds like a date,” Crowley said. Aziraphale blushed and turned away. Gabriel jabbed Crowley’s side with his elbow, pushing him off. 

“We should be getting back to unpacking anyway,” Gabriel said. “We’ll see you tonight?”

Aziraphale only spared them a simple glance over his shoulder. “Oh, yes! It’ll be lovely. See you then.”

Gabriel grabbed Crowley’s arm and dragged him out to the hall, his grip rather hard. 

“Hey, ow,” Crowley said. He tried to wiggle free but Gabriel did not relent until they were in their own flat. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry about the whole dating thing. Just thought it would be funny, sheesh.”

“What’s the most important rule in a job like this?” Gabriel asked. He had his judgment face on and Crowley groaned. 

“Don’t murder your partner?” he offered, feeling close to such a thing himself at the moment.

“Don’t get too close to the asset,” Gabriel reminded. He pointed an accusatory finger at him.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who was all like, hey, let’s have a potluck!”

“I’m serious.” Gabriel stepped up to him, grabbing the collar of Crowley’s shirt and staring intently in his eyes. “Keep your distance, Casanova.”

Crowley ignored the heat and excitement being so close brought him. He slapped Gabriel’s hand away and smoothed down his shirt. “Relax. When have I ever been known to get involved with someone on a case, hm?”

“I can think of at least seven cases just off the top of my head,” Gabriel said.

Crowley smirked. “Pretty James Bond of me, huh?” Gabriel was not amused. “Don’t worry. I’ll be good.”

“You better.” Gabriel finally stepped away and Crowley frowned, cold. “I won’t have you messing this up.”

“If anyone’s going to mess this up, it’ll be you.” Crowley followed Gabriel into the kitchen. “So,” he hopped up on the counter and watched Gabriel open the fridge. “What ya making for dinner?


	2. The dinner of a thousand lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is going to get himself into some serious trouble one of these days 😂😂😂  
> Thank y'all for reading <3 <3

When Aziraphale said he would cook them dinner, he had apparently meant he’d cook them a feast. Gabriel stood in the doorway with Crowley, both staring at the pile of food that Aziraphale had laid out on his table. Only, it was a very small table, and Gabriel wasn’t sure where they would fit their dinnerware. Let alone the two dishes he had made. 

_C’mon, Crowley had said. You know I can’t cook and this guy doesn’t deserve that_. And, like always, Gabriel had caved to Crowley’s consistent whining. Gabriel would never admit it, but it was certainly an effective maneuver. If there were two things Gabriel couldn’t handle it was whining and crying. 

Thank god Crowley has never tried the second approach. 

“I somehow feel under-dressed?” Crowley offered with a chuckle. 

Aziraphale looked between the two of them and the table of food. Then he blushed. “I...may have over prepared a little bit.”

“May have?” Crowley asked.

“A little bit?” Gabriel followed. 

Aziraphale’s blush deepened and he looked less embarrassed and more mortified. “I just...don’t often have people over is all. I suppose I got a little carried away.” He looked down and rubbed his arm sheepishly. 

Gabriel glanced over at Crowley, who was predictably looking heartbroken. If there was one thing Crowley couldn’t handle, it was someone lacking in confidence. 

“Well I think it’s great,” Crowley said, flashing his bright, toothy smile at Aziraphale. “It’s not every day you get to feast like a king! And I, for one, deserve it.” He pushed the plate of deviled eggs into Gabriel’s free hand and strode over to the food, eyeing it with a sparkle. 

Gabriel sighed and shook his head. Crowley was always too impulsive, jumping into things without thinking. If Gabriel didn’t know about Crowley’s extensive work in undercover jobs, he’d think Crowley would get them found out.

Actually.

 _Despite_ knowing about Crowley’s extensive work in undercover jobs, Gabriel still thought he’d get them found out.

“So where shall I put these?” Gabriel asked, holding up the two plates of food that now felt thoroughly unnecessary. 

“Oh, uhm,” Aziraphale chuckled a bit and took them from Gabriel. “I’m sure we can make room.”

“Here,” Crowley said. “I’ll eat all of this,” he slid a bowl of fruit salad off the table, clearing a moderate space off for them, “and then there’ll be room!”

Aziraphale smiled, eased by Crowley’s charm and general air of fun. At least Crowley was good for one thing.

“I wouldn’t eat all of that by yourself,” Aziraphale warned. “You’re liable to get a tummy-ache.”

“Certainly wouldn't want that,” Crowley said, even as he carefully grabbed a grape out of the bowl and popped it in his mouth. 

Gabriel studied Aziraphale as he pulled out three plates and tried to fit them on the table. He was certainly an interesting assignment. He had an air of high-class about him, yet said things like ‘tummy-ache’. Gabriel felt it was going to be a challenge trying to suss out his personality and routine. And he certainly enjoyed a challenge. 

“I hope everything is to your liking,” Aziraphale said. He stood waiting by the back of his chair as Gabriel and Crowley took their own seats, opposite each other at the table. He gasped, startled by his own thoughts. “Oh dear! You aren’t allergic to anything are you? I can’t believe I forgot to ask!”

“Just nuts for that one,” Gabriel said, gesturing over at Crowley. 

“Then you certainly don’t want the stir fry!” Aziraphale shuffled to the other side of the table and removed the bowl. He carried it over to the kitchen and set it down in the sink. “It’s cooked in peanut oil. I’m terribly sorry. I should have checked first!”

“It’s alright,” Crowley said, his fingers playing with his fork. “Besides,” he looked at the rest of the table, “I don’t think I’ll starve.”

Aziraphale gave him a weak smile and sat down, still looking thoroughly displeased with himself. “No other allergies, right?” 

“The oaf’s allergic to laundry detergent,” Crowley offered. “But, I doubt there’s any in the food. Unless this is an assassination attempt.” He looked at Aziraphale with an exaggerated squint.

Aziraphale laughed, once again finding a sense of calm in Crowley’s antics. “Well, if I was going to kill you, I think I could find something a little more creative than laundry detergent in a soup.”

The two shared a smile and Gabriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he kicked at Crowley’s leg under the table. _Enough flirting_ , it said. _We’re here on assignment_. Crowley gave Gabriel a proper squint as the group started to dish out their meal.

“I hope you like the pasta,” Aziraphale said, watching Crowley look at it before scooping some out. “It’s an old, family recipe.”

“Smells delicious,” Crowley said. Gabriel scooped his own portion out, watching Crowley with a bit of amusement. 

“Oh! I forgot drinks! One moment.” Aziraphale pushed out from his seat and hurried over to the kitchen.

Gabriel leaned forward. “I thought you were a vegetarian,” he whispered, looking at the meatballs of the pasta.

“Not when a cute guy's cooking,” Crowley hissed back. He twirled some pasta around his fork and stuffed it in his mouth. Then, he placed his fork under the meatball and flipped it over to Gabriel’s plate, landing it expertly in his pile of pasta. “As delicious as it smells,” Crowley announced to Aziraphale, who was returning with a bottle of wine and three glasses. 

Gabriel frowned at the interloper on his plate. Aziraphale bowed his head to pour out the wine and Crowley lobbed another ball over. The sauce splattered a bit. Crowley was very lucky none of it had landed on Gabriel’s suit.

Aziraphale passed out the glasses and settled back down. “I can’t wait to try these eggs,” he said. “They look positively scrummy.” He picked out two and set them on his plate, creating a nice little array of the feast before them.

“Made ‘em myself,” Crowley boasted. 

“Wonderfully done,” Aziraphale complimented. 

Gabriel bit the inside of his cheek to stop from making any physical signs of displeasure. He wondered if Aziraphale would have something to say about the other dish he had made, but he certainly wasn’t expecting it or anything. 

“So, what brings you two to the area?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley looked over at Gabriel. Gabriel had _tried_ to get Crowley to go over their new cover story, now that their old one wouldn’t quite work with their apparent dating dynamic. But, as always, Crowley couldn’t be bothered to sit still or plan things. And now, as Gabriel predicted, he was at a loss. 

“Just time for a change of scenery,” Gabriel offered.

“I understand. There are times I wish I could get away, even if just for a few days. Variety is the spice of life.”

“No one likes variety more than us,” Crowley said. “We move around like there’s no tomorrow.”

“I imagine you must have pretty remote jobs for that kind of mobility,” Aziraphale said. His eyes had opened a bit, eager to learn more.

“Oh yeah.” Crowley leaned back in his chair, laying an arm over the back. Completely unprofessional. “I’m a photographer. Can do that stuff anywhere, ya know?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I would love to see some of your work one day, if you don’t mind.”

A small flash of panic crossed Crowley’s face, gone as soon as it arrived. “Of course. I would be honored.” Gabriel shook his head. _This is why you plan ahead, idiot_.

“And you?” Aziraphale asked, head swiveling to Gabriel.

“Business consultant,” Gabriel answered. “Go in for a few weeks, fix things up, move on.”

“Good pay in that,” Crowley added, winking at him.

“So you’ll only be here for a while then?” Aziraphale asked. His eyes had turned down a bit, a frown playing at the edge of his lips. Gabriel didn’t know why, but he wished he could go back in time and change his answer. Even if the truth was they were only going to be there for a while then.

“Afraid so,” Crowley said. “Oh the life of a wanderer!”

Aziraphale swallowed back something he was going to say and forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Well then, we shall just have to enjoy the time we do have together.”

“Yes we shall,” Crowley said, a bit too sultry for the diner table. Gabriel kicked at him again. 

They continued eating, with Aziraphale asking them a million questions. Some were entertaining, like when he asked about their first date. (Kidzania, according to Crowley). Others were interesting, like when Aziraphale asked about their favorite movies, and Crowley, instead of taking the opportunity to try and give Gabriel an embarrassing interest, actually knew the answer. And gave it. Gabriel found he even surprised himself with how much he knew about Crowley.

Working with someone over the years, however much you detested them, still led to some fountain of knowledge, he supposed. 

“I hope you didn’t make desert,” Crowley said, slouching down in his chair some more. “I don’t think I could eat another bite.”

Gabriel figured he should have more than enough room, with all the meat he threw onto Gabriel’s plate when Aziraphale wasn’t looking. 

“I did,” Aziraphale said. “But please don’t feel like you have to eat them!”

“The feast continues!” Crowley declared, sitting back up straight.

Aziraphale bit his lip, looking quite worried for him. “Are you sure?”

“Trust me,” Gabriel answered for him. “I’m fairly certain Crowley has a bottomless pit where his stomach should be.”

Crowley nodded. “It’s true.” 

“Well, then I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Aziraphale smiled at them and went to get the desert out of the fridge. 

“I need you to distract him,” Gabriel whispered.

“Why?”

“I heard something moving down the hall.”

Crowley looked over his shoulder, furrowing his eyebrows at the three closed doors. “I didn’t hear anything. Sure you don’t wanna just snoop around?” He gave Gabriel a knowing look.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. He glanced at Aziraphale, who was slicing into a small cake. Gabriel did enjoy a good snoop, but he had heard something disturbing. And he suspected that Aziraphale didn’t really have two big dogs hiding back there. “Just do it,” he ordered.

“Here we are!” Aziraphale set down three plates of cake on the table. “Dig in!”

Crowley eagerly grabbed his fork and did just that. Gabriel waited, picking at his food to make it look like he was eating it. A few seconds later, Aziraphale turned in his seat to check the time on the wall clock. 

Gabriel felt something make contact with his chest. A wet line streaked its way down his torso as the thing fell into his lap. He looked down. A blob of chocolate was spread out over his shirt, a trail of it leading to his pants where the piece of cake sat. He looked up. Crowley was grinning, chin in one hand as he leaned on the table.

“ _Babe,_ ” Crowley said. “Look what you’ve done.”

Aziraphale gasped, and Gabriel did the math of how long he’d be in jail for throwing his knife into Crowley’s throat. 

“May I use your restroom?” Gabriel asked with a tight jaw. He kept his steady gaze on Crowley, however. 

“Yes, yes of course!” Aziraphale got up and pointed into the hall. “Door's on the left.”

“Thank you.” Gabriel stood up, placing the cake piece on his plate. Crowley’s grin just widened. 

Gabriel sighed and entered the door on the left. He really did need to get that washed off before any stains set in. He got what he could off, but it seemed like there would be stains either way. Looked like Crowley owed him a new suit. 

Gabriel resisted the urge to peek in Aziraphale’s medicine cabinet. There would be time for that later. Right now, he had a noise to find the source of. He left the bathroom, closing the door softly. Aziraphale and Crowley were not at the table. They stood in the living room, backs facing him as Aziraphale pointed to the bookshelf against the wall. Gabriel carefully slipped into the next room. 

It was an office. The walls were lined with bookshelves, none of which matched the others. The window was open, a breeze filling the room with a spring scent. There was a book sitting on the desk, out of place from the others. It was older, certainly not taken care of well, where the rest of the books had been loved gently. And an envelope was sitting on top. 

Gabriel glanced at the door, listening for the continued conversation outside before he picked up the envelope. It wasn’t sealed, and inside was a piece of paper and a stack of money. 

_3 PM, bandstand_ the paper said. Gabriel returned the envelope, making note of the title of the book. 

He moved to the window. There was a small layer of dust around the sill. It clearly didn’t get much use. But there were two patches of clean space on both the sides and the bottom. Someone had come through here, probably to deliver the book and money. 

Gabriel hummed and made his quiet way back out. 

“So you see, you can really read them in any order and it still makes sense!” Aziraphale finished explaining as Gabriel joined them in the living room.

“That’s some smart thinking,” Crowley agreed. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale turned to Gabriel, then frowned at his suit. “I’m awfully sorry about your suit.”

“Don’t be.” Gabriel smiled at him, then glared over at Crowley. “It’s not your fault.”

“You could try baking soda!” Aziraphale suggested. “It might help.”

“I’ll be sure to give it a shot.” Crowley was looking entirely too comfortable and happy with himself, leaning against the bookshelf slightly, smiling. “We should probably be going now.”

“I understand,” Aziraphale said, even though his face didn’t look like it did. “I have a class in the morning anyway. Should probably make sure I’m prepared.”

They said their goodbyes and Gabriel once more dragged Crowley to their flat. Crowley’s methods may be effective, but they were rarely worthwhile.


	3. The not very good stalking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean it's been 3 months? I don't believe your lies  
> Time is an illusion and a scam!!!
> 
> But thank you all for reading in this time hell-scape with me <3 <3 <3

The grinding sound of ice against blades pulled Crowley from a lovely dream about his new neighbor. He groaned and peeled his eyes open, staring at the ceiling of the living room. “If you’re going to steal the bedroom, you could at least be a little quiet in the morning.” He raised his hand up above the back of the couch, holding his fingers close together. “Just a little.”

The blender fell to a gentle whirl and Gabriel’s face appeared in Crowley’s vision. He was frowning. “We have work to do,” he said. “Get up.”

Crowley sighed and did not do that. He turned over and settled down against the cushions, pulling the blanket up over his head. The blender sped up again and Crowley shivered as the noise vibrated against his spine.

“Jesus fuck!” He threw the blanket off and sat up, glaring at Gabriel in the little kitchen. “How much gross protein smoothie do you need?”

Gabriel smirked, pouring out the blender into a second container. He glanced back at Crowley. “As many as it takes.” He poured more ice into the blender. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Crowley said. “I’m. Up.”

Gabriel sighed and thought about it. Then he did it. 

Crowley threw his hands in the air with a groan before rolling off the couch, escaping from the annoyance in the kitchen. 

He knew living with Gabriel would be difficult but he didn’t expect this much trouble. Gabriel had won the use of the bed in a coin toss (why couldn’t the flats in this building just have two bedrooms like everywhere else?), and even though Crowley enjoyed not having to cook for himself or eat out all the time, Gabriel really did make a noise of his kitchen work.

Crowley dredged himself into the bathroom and frowned. The clothes he had left there last night were missing, and his toothbrush had been placed in a little cup, sitting right next to Gabriel’s. Practically touching. He shuddered at the concept.

Crowley peaked his head out and glared at his roommate. “Where are my clothes?”

“You mean the dirty ones from yesterday? I put them in the hamper.”

“They weren’t dirty,” Crowley informed him.

“Then why were they on the floor?”

“Where else am I supposed to put them?”

Gabriel stared at him, as if he were trying to figure out if Crowley was being serious or not. Of course he was being serious. “The closet? The dresser? A chair?” Gabriel turned back to his cooking. “Anywhere but the floor.”

Crowley growled and stomped over to the bedroom. “Well _now_ they’re dirty,” he mumbled, scrunching up his nose at the smell. His outfit had apparently spent the night with Gabriel’s ‘ruined’ suit. “Now what am I supposed to wear?”

Gabriel appeared in the doorway, stirring something in a bowl. “You did bring more than one change of clothes, didn’t you?”

Crowley scowled back at him. “Yes, I brought more than one. But that’s not the point. Why did you touch my things?”

“Why did you leave a pile of clothes on the floor in the bathroom?”

“Because that’s where they _go_.”

Gabriel squinted at him a bit and Crowley sighed. There was no use arguing. They were both too stubborn for that, and he certainly didn’t want to spend his whole day stuck in here having an idiotic argument with Gabriel when he could be out with Aziraphale. 

So Crowley grumbled about and found another outfit to wear for the day. He had to look his best, of course. Granted, he would never _purposefully_ let on that he was tailing Aziraphale. But if the guy just so happened to see him while out and about, well, avoiding him would just be suspicious.

“You look surprisingly put-together,” Gabriel said as Crowley emerged from the bathroom. 

“Why surprisingly?” Crowley took a seat at the table, which Gabriel had set for one. A plate of eggs and fruit sat there with him, and he picked at it. 

“It just seems that you might be expecting something you shouldn’t.” Gabriel gave him a knowing look, sipping at his own liquid breakfast. 

Crowley rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you would think so lowly of me.”

“Really?”

“I’ll have you know that I happen to be one of the best damn agents around. And sometimes a little personal involvement is good for ya. Not that _you’d_ know anything about that.” Crowley hunched over his plate and ate faster, wanting to get out of the flat and away from judgment. 

Gabriel let out a long sigh then turned around and started cleaning up from the breakfast cooking. Crowley’s head perked up a bit.

“What? No response? You sick or something?”

“I’ll see you at three,” Gabriel said. He grabbed his bag and smoothed down his jacket. He looked at Crowley with piercing, hard eyes, like he hasn’t seen since they first met. “Don’t be late.” Then he left. 

Crowley sat up, staring at the door as if it had been the one to confuse him. “What the fuck was that about?”

The door did not have an answer for him.

-

Trailing Aziraphale turned out to be a lot more boring that Crowley thought. Mainly because the guy was so thoroughly involved with whatever he was doing that he hardly noticed anyone around him, giving Crowley very little room to be ‘discovered’. 

So he followed Aziraphale to the pastry shop down the street and watched him eat as he nearly ran to campus. He followed Aziraphale up three flights of stairs to the sight of his morning class. He couldn’t very well be seen sitting in on it, so he stood next to the door, listening as Aziraphale gave a very energetic lesson on Beowulf. It had never been a particular interest to Crowley, but damn if Aziraphale didn’t sell it. 

Then he stalked Aziraphale to his office, where student after student came by asking for help with this or assistance with that. It seemed the professor was quite popular, and not just for homework help. Maybe Crowley could ask him for help with his personal issues too.

Before long it was time for lunch, and Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets, walking behind Aziraphale as he bounced his way down the steps. Crowley wasn’t even trying, at this point, to be inconspicuous. He was sure he could call out Aziraphale’s name, stand right before him waving his arms like wild, and he would still go unnoticed. Unless you were the very thing Aziraphale was thinking about, you might as well not even be there at all. 

Which is exactly why Aziraphale did not see the backpack someone had set down next to them on the landing. He tripped over it, stumbling forward near the next set of stairs. And, well, a dead expert was really no use to them, was he?

Crowley hopped over the banister, landing in front of where Aziraphale was meant to fall. He grabbed the railing with one hand and reached out to catch Aziraphale with the other. The impact was a little hard on his shoulders, but it was worth it to see Aziraphale, breathless and flustered, held in his arm. 

“Goodness,” Aziraphale said, blinking up at his savior. “Thank you.”

Crowley smiled at him and pulled up, placing them both safely on the landing where the discarded bag and owner had made a quick get-away. 

Aziraphale dusted himself off and looked Crowley up and down. “Crowley? I...what are you doing here?”

Luckily for Crowley, he thought as quick as he acted. “Decided to do a photoshoot of the school. Lots of good architectural...stuff.”

Aziraphale looked around them, maybe checking for other misplaced bags. “Where’s your camera?”

Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Never actually shoot on the first day. Gotta scope the place out first, think about...angles and whatnot.”

Aziraphale gave him a slightly wary look and then nodded slowly. “Well, since you’re here, would you like to join me for lunch? O-only you don’t have to if you’re busy.”

Crowley smiled at him. “Free as a bird, actually.”

Aziraphale smiled back, a little more uncertain and cautious. He led Crowley to the cafeteria and paid for him, despite Crowley insisting he did not have to do that. But apparently it made a good thank-you for saving his life. They sat at a fairly empty table near the back of the room, the quiet dim of chatter a comfort around them.

“I’m sorry if I sounded accusatory earlier,” Aziraphale said with a soft whisper. He poked at the potatoes on his plate, shuffling them around before carefully eating one. 

Crowley shook his head. “Didn’t seem to be like anything other than curiosity.” Then he squinted in what he hoped came across as a playful manner. “Did you mean to be accusatory?”

Aziraphale blushed and looked down at his tray. “I just…” he bit his lip and straightened his spine, looking out the window near them. “I’ve just been a bit on edge these last few days is all.”

Crowley nodded. “And your new neighbor who tried to break into your house randomly shows up where you work.” He chuckled. “I get it.”

“Oh good.” Aziraphale sighed with relief. “I wouldn’t want to come across as unfriendly.”

“Not a bit.” 

They smiled at each other and resumed eating. Crowley hummed to himself. He was supposed to be doing recon work...and intelligence gathering _was_ a part of it…

“Any particular reason you’ve been on edge lately?” he asked. 

Aziraphale studied Crowley for a minute, clearly debating if he should lie or tell the truth. “New meds,” he hurried out. Which was the lie.

Crowley nodded. “That would do it.” He certainly didn’t blame Aziraphale for lying. He’d lie to himself too, if he were Aziraphale. Besides, Crowley knew it had to do with the Hand of Destiny, and those who were trying to find it. Maybe one day Aziraphale would trust him enough to say something. 

Aziraphale cleared his throat and looked around the room. “You know,” he said, drawing his words out. “There’s a lovely spot not too far from here that has some good scenery. You may be interested in taking some photos over there?”

“I’m always on the lookout for new spots,” Crowley said. 

“I’d be happy to show you where it is, if you’d like. I-I do have a class after lunch but then, maybe, if you’re still around…”

Crowley smirked. “I would be honored to be shown around by you. I’m sure there’s lots of places you could take me.”

Aziraphale wiggled a bit in his seat, smiling broadly. “Oh yes,” he said. “Many places indeed!”

Crowley smiled back at him. It was hard not to smile around Aziraphale. He was bubbly and soft, yet knowledgeable and strong. Crowley didn’t care what Gabriel said. He was going to get as close to Aziraphale as he possibly could.


End file.
